27th Period: Arrival at CampBell G.B.I. Headquarters

After I arrived at the CampBell District at G.B.I. Headquarters I recall meeting a man named Richardson of the Duckworth House. He claimed to be the director of the G.B.I. branch located in the CampBell District. He appeared genuine when he apologized for the way his Law Enforcement Officers had treated me and my fellow classmates. 

"Are you okay?" Richardson asked, his voice brimming with a hint of genuine concern. 

He studied me as I took a generous sip of the water, the cool liquid bringing some relief from the stress of the past few hours. 

"Yeah," I replied with a slight nod, "Just a bit shaken up." 

There was a long pause as he digested my response, his gaze never wavering. 

"I understand," he said finally, leaning back in his chair. 

"It must have been quite an ordeal, especially for someone so young. Tell me, what exactly happened during your stay at Garcinia Institute?" His question hung heavy in the room, setting the stage for the recounting of an incident that had changed our lives forever. 

I was very aware of the need to balance the dynamics of this conversation. I made sure to be respectful when addressing him. Richardson, clearly aware of the tension, attempted to lighten the atmosphere by placing a small plate of food across from me. 

"I trust once you finish eating we can move forward with this matter," said Richardson, the corners of his mouth twitching in a semblance of a smile. 

I took a deep breath before responding, conscious of the important role this discourse would play in shaping our future interactions. 

"Please sir, Mr. Richardson," I began, striving to keep my voice steady. 

"We haven't done anything wrong. The incident at the Garcinia Institute... It wasn't our fault. We're just students, caught in the middle of something we don't fully understand what the chemical was that we were studying," I paused, swallowing to ease the dryness in my throat. 

"We would very much like to leave this detention center. We have our Households, and friends who would miss us very much if you kept us here," My gaze met his, the intensity of my plea mirrored in my eyes. 

Richardson looked back at me, his expression a thoughtful mask. He nodded, his expression serious as he leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk, his gaze scrutinizing us intently. 

"Have any of you experienced any unusual symptoms since the incident? Such as discovering a hidden realm within your consciousness, a place known only as Astra—a realm where you could engage in battle with cards known as Invocation Cards," he asked, his voice steady. 

He paused, letting his question hang in the air before continuing, "It's important you tell us everything, no matter how insignificant it might seem. These Invocation Cards you have received come with different themes, and understanding your experiences will help us to help you as we teach you how to better manage it and ensure your safety." 

His words seemed genuine but I had yet to determine if he could be trusted. I filed away every piece of information he gave me for future reference. In the days that followed, my interactions with Kaitlyn and the other students took on a different hue. Kaitlyn was always the brightest among us - quick to laughter, full of ideas. Yet, I noticed changes. The laughter was subdued, and her eyes held a far-off look. 

"I've been having these strange dreams about another realm called Astra and these cards. I've tried to understand what I can do with my Invocation Cards as I try to reach for them. Something stops me from using them and then my mind becomes fuzzy. Then I'm suddenly awakened by the guards," she said to me one evening, her voice barely above a whisper. 

"When I am able to reach my Invocation Cards I start to see flashes of past events but they appear fuzzy. I suspect that they are the result of those neon colored power damping systems and they appear to be malfunctioning," She said as she cast a side-glance at me, her eyes reflecting uncertainty and intrigue. 

When I looked at my other remaining classmates, I saw the same confusion, the same sense of being adrift in an ocean of uncertainty. Yet, amidst the chaos, we found a shared experience - a common thread that bound us together. It was as if we were all part of some cosmic play, the consequences of which were yet to be fully understood. By this time the three classrooms and professors who had been captured with us were taken away and sent off to several different G.B.I. Detention Centers scattered around the world for further testing. 

The reality was far more complex and dangerous than we had ever comprehended. Richardson was not the solo puppeteer in this macabre game. The Law Enforcers, terrifyingly endowed with Invocation Cards were also a part of this scheme. Fear coiled within me, but there was a spark of determination too. After a tense discussion seething with apprehension and resolve, we made the daunting decision to escape this Detention Center, to seek the elusive freedom of the outside world. Our hearts pounded with the uncertainty of our fate in the real world and the unpredictable reaction of the Law Enforcers to our audacious plan. I could feel the weight of our decision, the fear, and the sliver of hope, all vying for dominance in my heart. 

Richardson's words hung heavily in the air, a fog of mystery that enveloped us. I struggled to decipher his cryptic message, each nugget of cryptic information becoming a puzzle piece to an unknown picture. Just days later, an uncanny change took hold of our reality. As I stood shoulder to shoulder with Kaitlyn, my neighbor in this cell block and fellow classmates - I could feel an unsettling shift in the air. 

The haunting realization dawned that the three classrooms and professors, whisked away to various G.B.I. Detention Centers were merely the beginning of a sinister experiment. As I turned to Kaitlyn, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. I reached out, gripping her hand in an effort to infuse some semblance of comfort and certainty in our precarious situation. 

"We have to be strong, Kaitlyn," I said softly, my voice echoing in the hollow acoustics of our cell. 

"Remember, we're not just students anymore. We're survivors, and we have to play this game smartly to stay one step ahead of Richardson and the law enforcers," I said as I continued to talk. 

She nodded, a tremble to her lips. 

"It's just...it's all so overwhelming," she admitted. 

"One moment we're resting in our dorm rooms and the next, we're...we're prisoners," she said. 

"Hey, better days are coming," I assured her, trying to sound more confident than I felt. 

"This," I motioned around our sparse cell, "Is just a temporary setback. We will find a way out. We need to make the most of what we have now and plan for our escape." 

Kaitlyn looked at me, her eyes moist with unshed tears. Then, slowly, she nodded. 

"Okay," she whispered. 

"We'll make this our home for now, but not for long. We will get out of here." I nodded back, hoping that my words came true sooner than later.